A Horse's Tale
by Aaka
Summary: The story of life as a Horsed Gerudo, and the Rule of Gananodorf... from the eyes of a rebel Gerudo.


… Well now, I see that we're alone.  
  
Very well, you came to ask my story. Yes, yes, indeed. I am sure you'll be surprised…  
  
My name is Boonaru. I am a… well, a FORMER Gerudo. It's not an easy task to say you've quit the thief's guild. Most of us who even THINK about it are killed, and rightfully so.  
  
What? You don't understand? It's simple. How would YOU like it if members of YOUR secret and deadly organization simply came and went as they pleased? It's all a matter of security. Dead men tell no tales, remember? Or dead women, for that matter…  
  
Anyhow. You asked me where I got my horse. I told you I didn't "get" her and you didn't believe me. Then you asked about the Hero with the grand horse, and the little girl who raised her. So now I have to dredge up my whole mournful past, JUST to satisfy your curiosity. Heh, you remind me of me in my youth.  
  
Oh don't get me wrong, I'm not THAT old. Now shaddap and let me tell you the story already.  
  
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I was born and raised a Gerudo, the proud desert race of women who scare nearly every Hylian we run across. Our fiery eyes, our bronzed skin… our hair that shines in the noonday heat like a mirage. Deadly with any bow, sling, or blade we get ahold of, and quick as a falling star. Devilishly clever, thieves to the bone, and skilled at sneaking… and, of course, Daughters of the Wind when we ride on the backs of the equine race. Indeed, we ARE fierce.  
  
My mother, who I can barely remember, sent me to train as a Horsed Gerudo when I was four. I say I barely remember her because we are taken into training as early as we are weaned from our mothers. You see, in our custom, the entirety of the Gerudo family actually raises a child until she is past infancy, not a single person. It keeps us well rounded, more group- oriented, until we can change direction at full stride at the same time like a herd of wild horses on the move. It's to keep our heads leveled, our minds sharp, and our spirits strong. We work together, eat together, live together… breathing, sleeping, existing as a team. It's really quite efficient.  
  
I do recall some of what she looked like… it's sketchy, and seems almost dreamlike, but I do remember her. Her hair was the color of dying embers, her eyes soft and almond-shaped, but fierce and deep brown. Her skin was tough from the harshness of desert life, deeply bronzed, but her touch was that of a gentled mare. She was a warrior; a very good one, apparently. She always had her hair tightly knotted at the nape of her neck in a bright auburn bun. I always thought it a shame to so restrain such hair, which is why I wear mine like this. You should see me when I ride. I've heard it called a vermilion flag, since it waves around so much. My sire was Hylian, a Captain of a scouting party, no less. Ha! Mother always did have expensive and particular tastes… the scouting party was captured and some were slain, but others were kept for… entertainment? Oh my, that sounded all wrong, now didn't it?  
  
I think my mother turned my sire loose. She DID say he was satisfactory enough. Mother always did have very high standards.  
  
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Oh come now. DO stop blushing. You look like a ninny.  
  
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At any rate, coming from such fine lineage, my mother wanted me to be a Horsed Gerudo. You see, there isn't enough grass and not enough water to let EVERY Gerudo own a horse… so those who own them are privileged beyond compare. We are trained from the very start of our lives, provided the Gerudo leader approves of it. We are taken before the Guild Leaders, and they select those who might be fit enough to join the highest, and most secretive rank of Gerudo. And once joined, you work very hard.  
  
The mornings and evenings were thieving lessons: to learn when and what to take, where and when to hide, who to steal from, when and why. The day was when we trained with swords and bows: how, when and where to strike, how to make our own weapons and which were of good quality, and of course, 'aim before strength, accuracy before power.' We spent every day of our young lives training with saber and rapier, broadsword and scimitar, long and short bow, until we were about six years of age. Every morning and every night we recited our code, "to steal from those who had more, never from a weaker, a woman or child. Never to slay unless our lives were threatened, and always always always be true to each other, for a Gerudo who stands alone, dies alone."  
  
I won't be modest and try to tell you I wasn't good at it. I was among the top of the class, actually. My marksmanship was the best and my horsemanship was close to phenomenal. But then again, Gerudos are born to ride horses. It's in our blood. Like our thieving skills. (Which, by the way, I'll remind you I'm STILL quite adept at…). But before we could even join with a horse, we had to begin our sword and knife skills, as well as our acrobatics, flexibility, and strength. By the age of two, I could wield a light sword fairly well, clean and sharpen any blade, do serious damage with a knife, and do what you'd consider rudimentary gymnastics and tumbling. But that was just the start of things. At age three we began our archery, and soon we could make our own slings, and even string light bows. We were getting better at our aim, but still not the perfect markswomen we would later be.  
  
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What, I TOLD you strength was something we worked on! I take it you've strung a bow then? Yes, I know it's tough. That's why we had to start early.  
  
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So. Early beginners all, even though there were only about ten of us in all. Lifting heavy stones, hanging from vines, climbing the rock face behind the Fortress… we trained diligently, with the day that we would claim our companion firmly in mind. It was a hard life, but it was the only life we knew.  
  
I remember specifically the day I claimed my horse. Every Horsed Gerudo claims their horse during the Choosing. Before you can ride, you must have a horse, right? Ahh, yes, it was a fine… what? What is the Choosing?  
  
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The Choosing is simple. All Horsed Gerudo inductees stand at one end of the training field, and they lead all the foals born that year onto the other end. The trainees may not speak, move, or make any sound at all. You must stand there, sometimes all day, if needs be. Sooner or later, the horse that will be forever your life companion comes to you. Heh, sometimes I'm not even sure how I understand it. It's like… like a connection, between you and that horse. Sort of like Hylians claim to connect with each other. I'm not entirely sure how that works, but… it's like being in the horses' head… or maybe the other way around?  
  
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At any rate. So the day of the Choosing began, like any other day, with the desert sun rising over the Wasteland. From the moment we awoke, we could say nothing. We ate our morning meal, bathed, and dressed in silence. All of us were quivering with excitement, but none of us could share our thoughts. Only smiles, glances, and the occasional jubilant hop or soft hug were permitted. Soon we were taken, silently, to the training field.  
  
The sky was sharp and clear, the air was hot, and the sun burned like a brand in the sky. The sand smelled of sunlight, and the cool canyon wind blew into the Fortress like a glimmer of hope on such a hot day. Of course, I had nothing to worry about, this bronze skin of mine kept me fairly safe from the scorching rays of the burning midday sun. Ah, yes. That was a perfect desert day, the kind that makes you want to go swimming in the canyon river, chasing dust storms through the Fortress, or even just venturing as far as you dared into Hyrule Field. The kind that made you envy the older girls for their freedom to ride far beyond your view, possibly sneaking into the Castle itself and watching the curious Hylians in their daily lives, but loving the precious tales they returned with, and the vivid descriptions of Hylian males…  
  
The horses were lead onto the field after we had been lined up. Some were nearly a half a year old, others only just newborn. There were deep-chested grays, a couple long legged whites, a dapple gray, an Appaloosa or two, a few chestnuts, and one brown.  
  
And then SHE came on the field, like a princess to a royal ball.  
  
She was a graceful solid black filly, not more than a week or so old. Her eyes were darker than a raven's wing at midnight, but she had a bright white star right between her eyes. She was as fresh as a spring rain, black as ebony and spunky as a candleflame. Her eyes were liquid pools of onyx, and her hooves gleamed like polished river rocks, while her hide was so black and shimmering in the sunlight that appeared almost navy blue. I swore she was from the depths of the deepest cave, she was so dark. Her knees were knobby and her gait was still a bit shaky, but her bearing was as regal as any royalty, with her head held high and her midnight mane flying like a flag in the gentle breeze. Her dam was one of the best horses ever owned by a Gerudo, and her sire was a superb specimen stolen from the king's own stable. She was a fantastic horse. I KNEW she was the one for me, but of course I couldn't make a move. I had to sit there, sweating under the desert sun, quivering with anticipation. It was… breathtaking…  
  
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Eh? How does the horse choose you? Heh heh heh, that's why it can take all day, friend! The horse decides when they've made up their mind, and they wander over to you. But the choice isn't made until they actually touch you. Once that's happened, you slip your own handmade bridle over their ears, and it's done. The rest of the day and night is spent with your horse. Hmph, well, it's REQUIRED to spend with the horse, but most of us ended up sleeping in the stables after that anyway. It's like we found our soulmates.  
  
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Anyway, yes. The black mare was one of the first to choose. Third, I believe. I'm not sure. I was too busy watching her to notice the others. I was wary, since the second-best in the class, Gaburo, was also eyeing the little filly. My mind raced with the possibility that the little equine angel would pick HER, a second-rate Gerudo-trainee, rather than me, the best of the class and the only one who could ever be worthy enough for her. Then her eyes glossed, and I knew she had decided. She knew her choice.  
  
She stood there like some equine statue for THE longest time, I'll tell you that… and then she let out the most silvery peal of horse laughter and came trotting toward me in that wobbly-legged gait that all foals have. She slowed when she neared us. Since Gaburo was right next to me, I could feel the tension in the air. The miniature goddess of horses stood before Gaburo and I, her deep black eyes boring into us. The sweat stood out on my forehead, and my heart beat like thunder on the high Wasteland. I couldn't bear it!  
  
She turned her head to Gaburo. My heart stopped. She couldn't choose HER! She was only second best, not worthy of such a horse! Not that I was much more worthy, but I was more worthy than she was. I was the best! And I was sure I could love that horse much more than she ever could, or would. It couldn't be true! She couldn't choose Gaburo. She just couldn't. I'd die if that stunning desert jewel chose Gaburo. I could have no other horse.  
  
But then she turned back to me.  
  
Her nose hovered in between us both. She inched forward, until she was just a breath between us. I stood stock-still. My mind was swirling, my heart pounding and my whole being screaming like an eagle to reach out to her. But one of the elder girls was right behind the two of us. I learned later that this filly was being closely watched, being from such high breeding as the Royal Stable line. They wouldn't risk interference with such a prized specimen. I couldn't move, but my heart silently rejoiced that neither could Gaburo. We had to wait. Nothing seemed to move. Time stood still, and the air seemed to eat my skin away. The seconds crawled by like years. The world was soundless, empty. She was so close I could feel her warm breath on my arm, but it wasn't enough. She waited, drawing out the endless moment, as though she enjoyed the way I was sweating over this. Or the way Gaburo must have been sweating over it.  
  
And then she moved.  
  
Like a butterfly alighting on a flower during the first spring bloom, she whuffled softly and stretched her velvet nose out…  
  
And touched my arm.  
  
  
  
It was thrilling! I could feel the connection being made, like she'd somehow gotten into my brains and was leaping about in my skull. The instant I felt her feather touch on my arm, the most jubilant feeling shot through the very core of my being. At that very moment, my mind threw open a window and her very thoughts suddenly erupted inside. The feelings she felt, the thoughts she thought, the very essence of her being merged with mine. Suddenly I could feel the warmth of her mother's womb, the gangly first steps, the beautiful thickness of first milk, the smell of fresh hay, and the fresh first sensations of air and sunlight and water and earth. I could see her dreams, the stall she was born in, and the stars in the black sky through the window. I could remember her dreams, her silly memories… and she teased out my memories and started to search through my thoughts. She was learning about my past, just as I was learning hers. We began to understand, grow, even melt together. Our hearts and minds were suddenly in synch. We had become one, my horse and I. It was then that she told me her name…  
  
Namir.  
  
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It means "Swift Cat". Don't ask me how horses come up with their names. I think it's simply born to them, although it may be the first thing they see. I'm not sure. All of them seem elegant enough. Horses are sensible that way. I'm sure the horse you're riding isn't really named Hunter or Lady or whatever horrible names you give them. The only ones who really seemed to understand in all my years as a free wanderer were the two I'm going to tell you about.  
  
So, where was I? Ah, yes. Buy me another drink, me bucko, and I'll continue. That's it… Now, as I was saying.  
  
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When I felt Namir's nose on my arm, I knew the Choice was made. I took the bridle I had made with my sweaty, trembling hands, and slipped it shyly over her little black ears. I turned to leave, and caught a brief glimpse at Gaburo, who looked visibly pale, but gave her no second thought as I exited the field, my heart singing with jubilant rapture.  
  
Namir and I left the field rather quickly, our minds still glued together like bricks well mortared to the foundation. I wasn't allowed to ride her yet by rules, since she was still far too young, but we romped together, enjoying each other's presence, and then settled in for the night in her stableroom with her mother. The stars burned brightly in the cool night sky, and I remember not being able to sleep right away, due to the excitement of the day. And that was the beginning of the relationship that would last a lifetime. I was five.  
  
I'd found my best friend. As though we'd been separated for eternity, our souls sang jubilantly together every hour of our lives. There was a weeklong respite from training to "bond" with our newfound soul mates, but I don't see how we could've bonded any closer, short of glue.  
  
The dreams that night were filled with laughter and memories. In our sleep, our minds and hearts linked as they were, we could dream together. It was an opportunity for both of us to catch up on each other's memories. I watched through her eyes as she was given her first brushing down, her first venture into the yard, the first encounter with another horse besides her mother, and even the leading onto the field. I saw, through her eyes, my nervous form, standing so far away.  
  
I suddenly heard her thoughts in the dream, wispy and sleepy:  
  
"You. Me. Together. No other. We."  
  
Nothing made me happier. The emotions portrayed in her dreams comforted me, surrounding me in a warm blanket of love. Her feelings and memories told me plainly and clearly that we were always meant to be together. She had chosen me before we'd ever even met. Before, perhaps, she was even born.  
  
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What can I say? Horses are mysterious creatures. Like cats with a gentle disposition. And a much more open mind.  
  
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During the following week, we discovered each other. I learned Namir's favorite shady spot, she learned about my weapons; odd "toys", as she called them. She didn't quite grasp the purpose of killing yet. Nor thieving. I taught her otherwise.  
  
Trust me. A horse can become a very adept thief in a short time. I could never find her bridle when I needed it after that, although I eventually began discovering her various stashing places. Never teach a horse how to undo a latch, either. It got to be a bit difficult to convince her to stay in during the night…  
  
As for killing, she learned that on her own.  
  
We were racing to the bridge. We did that on occasion, although she almost always won. She would sometimes let me win. Whenever she felt like letting me win, though, she would fake a stumble, a cramp, or some other silly little malady. Right down to the thoughts of "pain!!" or "wait!". She got to be a pretty good actress, too, I must admit. It got to the point where I almost couldn't tell when she was faking it. But most of the time, she would race with all her heart and leave me practically at the Fortress. She would always come racing back, ears pricked up in that "I won!" posture, neck erect and mane flapping with every stride. And she'd nose me playfully and trot with me back to the bridge.  
  
I digress.  
  
It was an overcast day. I remember that. So Namir and I went to race down to the bridge. We wanted to watch the rain on the river, if it rained at all, so we both ran as though the Gates of Hell were on our heels. I got to the point where I could almost keep up with her at the beginning, until she finally outlasted me. She was incredibly fast for a horse, and even ALMOST keeping up with her was an accomplishment. She'd broken away from me, thundering across the hard-baked earth like a storm herself…  
  
Then stopped like she'd never been running at all.  
  
I was completely baffled, slowed until I finally came to a halt a bit in front of her, and wondered why she stopped so suddenly. Her thoughts tore across my brain, practically blinding me:  
  
"STOP. DANGER!"  
  
My eyes tried to find what she saw. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breathing was in quick gasps. Suddenly, her eyes and mine found the thing.  
  
It was a snake. A desert asp, to be more accurate. One of the most deadly poisonous creatures alive. Short from Ganondorf (may the stinking bastard rot forever in Hell…).  
  
The wind from the storm had picked up noticeably, and her mane and tail were tugged by the wind like yarn by a cat. But other than that, she betrayed no life at all. The asp was a little too close to my heel than I liked, but if I moved, I would be dead within minutes. I had no choice but remain absolutely still.  
  
The snake, however, didn't have that particular restraint. It inched toward my leg with deliberate slowness, eying my calf. He had certainly seen me come racing up, and now, knowing it had me where I was vulnerable, would surely teach me a thing or two about life on the high desert…  
  
Namir's mind suddenly boiled with anger. Her thought patterns tinged crimson hate, the images flashing from my leg to the snake to me. Faster and faster her mind churned, a wild maelstrom of passionate protectiveness. Until finally, with the asp a hair's breadth from my leg, raised and poised to strike… she lunged.  
  
With all the fury of the equus race, she screamed with the thunder that erupted overhead. Her hooves came down like lightning bolts, slashing into the asp with ease and severing the thing in half. But even the fact that the snake was in two pieces didn't stop her. Again and again she plunged into the thing, a wild look in her eyes I had never seen before. Her mind swarmed with flashes of anger and resentment, tinged with fear and anxiety. I was taken off guard, and believe me, that's no small feat.  
  
Finally, the asp's battered body, half-buried in the dirt and split into a hundred pieces, blood turning the already burnt-red ground black, finally stopped twitching. One last time, as though she wasn't sure, Namir stamped at the snake. When nothing happened, she snorted disdainfully, her thoughts something to the effect of "There. That'll teach you." She turned to me, her eyes still a bit wild, but exultant and shining with pride. Her mind danced, and at last I understood her happiness: she'd protected me.  
  
It's not easy to understand a horse's thinking. But this I fully comprehended. As a team, we were to watch each other's backs, trusting the other to come to our aid. And now, with the deadly creature at my feet totally destroyed by her, she had shown me that she was my teammate, to be relied upon, even risking her own life to save mine.  
  
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Of course I was worried! That snake could've bitten her just as easily as it could've bitten me. I instantly checked her over for bites, even though it wouldn't have made any difference. But the point was, she'd finally demonstrated her bond with me. It's not all fun and games, you know.  
  
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By the time I was seven, we were allowed to actually begin our horsemanship. The horses were now old enough to be taught to saddle, although most of us (me included) were practicing in secret, usually at the urging of our horses. It was often that Namir's nose woke me in the middle of the night, dropping her bridle on my chest. We had to do this carefully, mind you, since a horse ridden too early can hurt the poor thing. Too young, and you'll strain it's back. Too late, and you lose valuable training time. But trust me, with minds so closely linked, you know when you're putting too much weight on the little foal's back. We never rode the foals without permission, of course… but we did teach them to trust weight on their backs, placing big blankets over them and taking them off constantly. They loved it, and trusted us completely. They were eager to be a part of us.  
  
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Eh? What's that? You don't understand WHY they wanted to be taught to saddle?…  
  
Well, first of all, friend, don't EVER use that phrase again. We Gerudos do NOT "break in" our horses. They are Daughters of the Wind, just as we are. To… "break them in" would destroy their souls. That's why they wished to join us. They knew we would never ask more of them than was reasonable, and they wanted to help us. And believe me, the feelings are mutual. We would do ANYthing for our soulmates.  
  
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… Anyway. We learned to ride simply at first, which would amount to excellent horsemanship in your Hylian standards. Galloping, jumping, swift- mounts and sharp turns that would make a rancher cry. And then, when I was eleven, we moved on to the acrobatics. That was my specialty. I was the most dexterous of the class, and fairly strong, so I could master any maneuver I came up against. And Namir was so fleet and nimble that she could best any other horse in precision and timing. Together we were unstoppable. Namir and I were so completely in step we dazzled our instructor. With a thought I could steer Namir in every direction, as with any paired horse and rider, but we were always better. In full gallop I could hang off the saddle, spring from the ground and reseat myself facing backwards. I could ride standing in the saddle. Namir and I even practiced (in secret, of course) a galloping handstand. Needless to say, I accelerated quickly through the classes. I was already in Horseback Archery and Swordship when I was thirteen.  
  
Horseback Archery is one of the most advanced courses. Accuracy, speed, and timing. Strength, too, but without those first three, strength is nothing. Naturally, Namir and I were built for the job.  
  
Most girls don't enter Horseback Archery until about fifteen. I was two years ahead of my age group, and absolutely killer with a bow. I did feel a bit intimidated at first, since I was the youngest of the group, but eventually I found that I could keep up with them perfectly, and settled in. I had become one of the elite. I was the respected Horsed Gerudo.  
  
Of course, it wasn't ALWAYS easy.  
  
The girls I had left behind weren't always pleased with being "average" trainees. As we fell asleep at night, I could feel their resent hot on my neck, oppressive in the air like wet fodder. I began to enjoy the older girls' company more, and eventually moved out of the younger girls' dorm.  
  
But that didn't stop them from being jealous.  
  
Gaburo was the worst. She shot me hateful glares every time I passed her by. More than once I heard her mutter beneath her breath… words I can't even repeat, they were so hateful. As we grew older, Namir began to shy away from her, even simply walking through the yard. Gaburo's eyes would follow me, burning into my back like a heated blade, with undisguised revulsion. At meals, she would sit at the far end of the table, as though I had some terrible disease, and I often caught her giggling viciously with some of the younger girls while looking in my direction.  
  
There were a few times I was the butt of pranks. My bed, once, was filled with manure. Namir warned me, thankfully. There was one occasion where my food was intentionally spilt, although she missed my lap (fortunately… it was scalding hot soup at the time), and one event where I was almost killed when the rope I had been climbing during practice snapped in two. If it hadn't been for quick reflexes, I would have plummeted a good hundred feet to solid rock below. I'm sure it was no accident, since there was a number of Gaburo's clan at the cliff's edge to spot us. It wouldn't have been difficult to slice a few of the rope fibers through without being noticed.  
  
I suppose I should have drawn this to the attention of the instructors, but I didn't. I kept my mouth shut, true to my Kin as I was taught to be.  
  
It stopped when my soup was laced with poison, however.  
  
Namir and I were eating lunch out in the training field, and I was served my favorite soup: Keese Stew with milk. The instant I received it, Namir flattened her ears and bared her teeth. I asked her silently what was wrong, and she stared at my soup. "Food: BAD," she told me. Since she'd never done that before, I dipped the blade of my knife into the bowl and placed a drop onto a nearby woody shrub.  
  
I've never seen something react so violently.  
  
The drop burned through the brush, and splashed onto the ground. The earth remained unaffected, but the shrub began to curl away and blacken before my eyes. It bled out from the branch I had touched, working its way slowly down the stem and into the roots, which started to steam beneath the cracked ground. I stared, and tremblingly set my bowl down.  
  
One of my older classmates happened to walk by, and stopped.  
  
"Boonaru?" I remember her asking, "What on earth is wrong? Did you bite into a bug?"  
  
I shook my head, and pointed to my bowl, then to the shrub.  
  
It took her a moment, and Namir's hoof stamped into the ground angrily. Finally, the older girl, who's name was Junuro, calmly asked me to stay where I was, and not touch the soup, bowl, or plant. She left quickly, and returned within moments with one of the instructors and an experienced lady who worked in the kitchen.  
  
I learned that day that there were certain poisons that only destroyed living tissue. Poison is one of those methods we usually avoid, since we aren't assassins, but it IS in the compound.  
  
All the girls working in the kitchen that day were lined up, to be questioned, browbeaten, and possibly punished. I wasn't surprised to see Gaburo in that line.  
  
She caught my gaze, and stared straight back at me. Her eyes were normally yellow, but to me, the fiery color of yellow was ice cold. It was as if their light of life had gone out, replaced by one of cold resolve. Patience. Hatred.  
  
Eyes like a desert snake.  
  
I still hate myself for this, but I STILL kept my mouth closed.  
  
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No, I'm NOT saying she conjured that asp or anything. I'm not even saying she had BEEN an asp, or anything like that at all.. But I swear, when I recall hey eyes that day, I still link it to that day when I raced Namir to the river and nearly got killed.  
  
Now that I think about it, she even used poison, like snake venom. Venom destroys living tissue, you know. That's why it hurts like fire in your veins: it's killing you slowly, from the inside out.  
  
No, Gaburo had nothing to do with that asp. She was a snake of her own species.  
  
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Shortly after that little incident, I joined the upper-ranks officially. I received my new uniform and armband bearing the mark of my new rank, and Namir got a real bridle. The old halter I used since the first day we'd met would always be her halter, but I would no longer use it for long rides. It was falling apart by that point anyway. I brushed my hair back, dressed in my new uniform, and put on the face marks of the Gerudo Riders. My armband would immediately identify me as one of the elite, the four horseshoes split by an arrow and sword stating the rank without words. I was one of them.  
  
But I had to be inspected by the King himself.  
  
I swore allegiance to him every morning and every night, and always spoke his name with respect. I had seen him a few times before then, at official rallies and speeches, but they had mostly been when I was a child and barely could recall what he looked like. He had also been a bit younger.  
  
But when he stood before me that day, I felt nothing but revulsion for my so-called King, even as his oppressive presence bore down on me like a sand storm.  
  
He was seated in the center of the yard, in a beautifully carved throne under an elegant gazebo. His cloak was blood red, and his hair was like a flame. His skin was darker than any Gerudo's I'd ever seen before, and his cruel eyes danced with malicious joy as a condescending smirk played on his lips. He was incredibly tall and extremely well built, and I felt like he could crush me in one fist before I would even have a chance to scream for help, although I was almost sure he'd take delight in the screams for mercy.  
  
Amidst all his finery and sophistication, he was still an evil, black- hearted man.  
  
I was brought before "his majesty" (excuse me while I spit)… with Namir beside me. Fortunately, a couple of other girls were also being inducted, Junuro being one of them, thus I wasn't the entire focus of attention. None of us were on our steeds, as we weren't allowed to be higher than Ganondorf (may he rot in hell with all the grubs and carrion- eating vermin). But even with Namir beside me, I felt naked and alone. Namir whickered nervously, her thoughts skittish, and pressed close to me even in the midday heat.  
  
The two witches who floated at either side of him, whom I had somehow not noticed before, announced in scratchy, dry voices:  
  
"You may introduce them now, young teacher."  
  
"His Majesty wishes to see the newest members of his elite force!"  
  
My instructor, who was cloaked in formality and showed no emotion, kneeled and replied, "As you wish it, your eminences."  
  
She then stood and turned to half-face us. "I give you the newest elite Gerudo Riders: Koorin, Junuro, Boonaru, and Ikoori!"  
  
And, although my mind screamed in protest, we were made to kneel.  
  
Namir's distrust and anxiousness was only barely concealed. She breathed shallowly, her eyes a bit wild, and her nostrils ever so slightly flared. I tried my hardest to soothe her thoughts with mine, but when one's own mind is in turmoil, it's difficult to calm another. One of witches glanced at us, and my jaw locked. Namir trembled slightly, and echoed: "Not right. Bad. Planning bad things. Leave, now!" But despite her nearly- exposed fear, we fought back the panic and stayed, submissive. The creature who had turned her eyes to us furrowed her wrinkled brow. Namir strained to hear, and sent me her words.  
  
"Koume," the witch whispered, "that one is a bit rebellious."  
  
The other hag turned to me, and whispered back, "She's just a girl, Kotake. The power of his Majesty is overwhelming her."  
  
The first witch thought a moment, and nodded. "We will keep our eyes on her."  
  
He said nothing to us, but nodded and said a few words aside to the witches accompanying him. They conversed a while, and then he dismissed us with a wave of his hand.  
  
I turned with the others to go, and caught a glimpse of Gaburo's face.  
  
It was a mask of rage. Her eyes burned cold, like icy fire, straight into my soul. Namir shuddered, and Gaburo's nostrils flared. Her mouth twitched as though she was sinking her teeth into flesh, and narrowed her eyes. I could almost hear her thoughts, almost sense her plans for me. But as much as I could read it in her face, I had no idea what she was going to do. I was no Hylian, gifted with telepathy. But no one needed telepathy to read the absolute bitter, barren, soul-lessness in her gaze. She hated me more than anything else in the world, and that was clear. But even those who hate Ganondorf (may he rot in pain forever), don't have that complete emptiness, that hole inside that makes life a living death…  
  
Her eyes locked with mine for a while, and she did something totally unpredictable. She smiled. It was the first time I'd ever seen Gaburo smile. But I remember hoping it would be the last. It was a smile devoid of laughter… mirthless, like the smile of the desert just before it swallows you whole… horrifying, like the wide grin of the river of sand that will suck you under… a smile of neutrality, resolute anger… a promise of death.  
  
And in an instant, she was gone.  
  
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And you think YOU had enemies.  
  
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After my induction, my classes began to be a little more lax. Our instructor permitted us, and even encouraged us, to venture into the edges of the great Hyrule Field. Namir and I were never more pleased.  
  
The first place I ventured to was Lake Hylia. Back then, I didn't know it's name, and I renamed it "Namir's Watertrough". It became our favorite place to go. Without even realizing it, we learned a skill that no other Gerudo discovered. The other Gerudo Trainees seemed wary of going to the lake, mostly because of its connection with the Zoras and the King of Hyrule, but I paid it no mind and often waded in the cool, refreshing waters. It was then that I, and even Namir, after a bit of coaxing, learned to swim. I discovered that fish were good to eat. I found that the clear lake air permitted me an unobscured view of the stars. That tree… have you ever been to the lake, friend? The tree out on the island in the middle of the lake… Namir and I would sleep there often. Well, after she got over her fear of crossing bridges. Sometimes we wouldn't return for weeks. The clean cool air, the fresh breezes, the sweet crystal water, the delicious fish, soft nights and warm days on the grass, the gentler sunlight, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. The lake was a much nicer place to visit than the desert, such a harsh, empty place…  
  
When I was fourteen, I ventured further and further into the field. It was there that I first met the girl you asked me about earlier. In the middle of the field, as you know, is a place called Lon Lon Ranch. In the black cloak of night, Namir and I rode to the place, our hearts pounding in our throats with the thrill and excitement of our trespass. The owners and such were already asleep, so I was able to procure a very good layout of the place. It was a humble abode, well built and sturdy, but there were cows and horses to be had there. I knew that stealing one would be a great accomplishment, and would gain me much renown. You see, thieving is our top skill, so the greater the value of the stolen item, the greater your ability must be. A cow, or even a horse, is a great accomplishment. A horse more so, due to our cultural habits. So, I decided to try it the next evening.  
  
I returned the following night, starting at every sound, halting at every Wolfos howl, my heart about to burst with excitement. Namir could feel it through me, and together we nearly couldn't contain ourselves. She knew well enough to keep quiet, but in her excited state it would be easy to spook her. I was very careful to be as noiseless as I could, constantly reminding myself I had all night to pull this off.  
  
When I crept into the barn, I found exactly what I was looking for. A young filly, not more than a yearling, bright rust colored with a two-toned mane and whisk-broom tail. She was one of the finest horses I'd ever laid eyes on, apart from my own. The poor dear was asleep on her hay, and I knew it would be an easy task. It would be a chore to keep her voice silenced, but her hooves would be covered with leather booties especially designed to muffle the clip-clopping. With Namir ready to run, and with her own set of leather hoof-bootie to muffle her footsteps, I crept close to the sleeping foal.  
  
But me, being impetuous, had not noticed the girl sleeping beside the filly until I'd almost made my move.  
  
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Yes, a little girl. I learned later that she was the daughter of the rancher himself. Malon, I think her name is? At any rate, my blood froze when I laid eyes on her. Her hair was almost the same bright rust color as the filly, and I could scarcely tell where girl stopped and horse began.  
  
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She was completely at ease, in deep sleep, her back curled against the foal's stomach, one arm thrown over the filly's neck, her face tucked onto the other hand. I blinked, unsure of my next move, debating on whether to run or stay, Namir frantically trying to keep a grip on her emotions without giving herself away.  
  
I then paused. The little girl had twitched, her expression a sleepy mask of dreamtime happiness. I waited…  
  
And then, simultaneously, girl and horse twitched.  
  
Again and again, their movements coincided. Like they were dreaming the same dream. Perhaps even dreaming together.  
  
It struck me, suddenly… in all my years as a Gerudo Thief, I had assumed that we were the only ones worthy enough to ride horses. Our dedication, our prestige, our honor… it relied strongly on our Horsemanship. And yet… this little girl, not much older than I had been when I underwent my Choosing…  
  
Suddenly doubting myself, I turned and fled, Namir's mind a flurry of confusion. But as we rode back, I couldn't stop thinking of that little girl. Finally, I got up my courage to return and watch her at dusk, despite Namir's misgivings.  
  
Again I returned to watch her at dawn.  
  
Pretty soon I began to watch her in broad daylight (although I was very nervous and continued to hide quite efficiently). Day after day, I rode to the ranch, scaled the wall and watched her.  
  
She and that filly were no more real than Namir and I. But the feelings between the two seemed identical! She sang to the horse this simple, sweet melody, and the horse would run to her from any corner of the yard. The two romped and laughed and played together like I and Namir had… the only difference being that their play was for the sake of having fun, while our was fun for the sake of honing our abilities. I could not believe my eyes.  
  
I finally told my instructor about this. She became enraged, not only that I could assume that a connection between the two actually existed, but for my cowardess in NOT stealing the filly and for my stupidity at risking my capture because of this silly little girl. She told me never to return to the ranch, unless it was to steal that filly. Then and only then would I prove to them and myself that no connection existed between this girl and foal.  
  
I was disheartened to hear her words… Namir had not understood the instructor's words, but probed my thoughts and learned the truth. She, too, became melancholy, and together we roamed to the lake again to think. The whole way, her mind flashed blurred images of horses and children, grass and wildflowers, and the question "Why?" in every scene. We both stayed there for quite awhile, swimming and lounging on the grass… but it had lost its flavor. Was there really a connection? Or was I just hoping there was?  
  
That evening, I plucked up enough courage to ask my instructor about Ganondorf (may the snake forever burn in Hell).  
  
It was after dinner, and I knocked politely on her great wooden door. It wasn't very late yet, and I prayed I would not awake her from her sleep, but I didn't want interruptions, either.  
  
"Come in," she replied.  
  
I opened the door nervously, a mere child intruding on the elder's space, but I had to know. I needed to know why we swore fealty to such an obviously evil man, a MAN, and what he wanted with us.  
  
"Instructor?" I asked tenuously.  
  
"I already gave you permission to enter," she said briskly. My instructor was always a no-nonsense lady. I came inside and closed the door.  
  
She looked up from the scroll she'd been perusing. "What is it?"  
  
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In case you're wondering… I remember this conversation completely. Every detail. It will always haunt me.  
  
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"I need to ask you something," I began shyly.  
  
"Then ask, Young One. What is it?"  
  
"…The Great Ganondorf… I… I want to know more about him."  
  
She wasn't shocked, which comforted me some, but she did look a little on her guard. That worried me.  
  
"The Great Ganondorf is our King. We will serve him to our deaths. That is all you need know."  
  
"… but instructor," I persisted, "… please… I must know… why him?… He… he frightens me. I fear him. And it is not loyal fear."  
  
She stopped and took a deep breath. I suppose she'd heard it before. How could she not have? I couldn't have been alone in fearing, even loathing the "great king".  
  
"Boonaru," she began, "you are very headstrong. You are also very curious, and have a tendency to make enemies. The elders have noticed this." I cringed. "But since you are also one of our best elite Riders, we will answer some of your questions.  
  
"The Great Ganondorf is the hereditary King. One male child is born every hundred years or so, and becomes King by law. It is not our place to defy him. Moreover, it is downright dangerous to contest his will, as he has absolute power over our people. It is power he is given by birthright. He is our King.  
  
"He frightens you because he is powerful. He has been taught in the Arts of Magic since he was a boy, as you were taught to ride and steal. He will one day make us a proud race. He plans now to gain more power, and when he has grown enough in strength, strength that we must give him, as his loyal subjects, he will bring us pride and make us prosperous. We will have fine horses, plenty of water and food, fine crafted tools, and power of the Goddesses. Don't you see, Boonaru? He is powerful for US!  
  
"There are those who have stood in his way to our glory, and he has dealt with them. That is another reason you fear him. Doubtless you've heard of his directions to some of the more skilled thieves and warriors to steal from certain women and children and to kill some people… but it's for the good, Young One. They are unworthy people, those who would plot to do away with our race entirely. They are our enemies. He himself has told us of his days in the court, looked down upon by the lowliest Hylian. He himself has told us of the Hylian's brutal, primitive habits and customs. His orders are to stop their wrongs. It is for our benefit. And it is not unjustified. So have no fear. Everything has been taken care of."  
  
… I bit the blood out of my lip, and asked for dismissal.  
  
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So now I knew he was a murderer and was using us as puppets for his own means, whatever they were. I needed to get out of there and think.  
  
Wouldn't you?  
  
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I finally decided that I had to return to the ranch. One last time, to see that little girl. Perhaps I would warn her that others may try to steal her filly. Slowly, mournfully, I mounted Namir, and we rode to the ranch, our hearts low and dejected. How could my instructor have been so arrogant to assume that connection between Hylian and horse was impossible? Surely their tendency to telepathy could permit it…  
  
When we got there, I had almost hopped over the railing when I noticed another small figure in the field. A little boy, dressed all in green and accompanied by a small hovering ball of light I could only guess was a fairy, had joined them today, and he was speaking with the little girl. But more startling was the fact that the foal was as far away from the two of them as possible. Never had I seen the filly so far from the girl! The foal's eyes were wild, and avoided every contact with the boy. I so was amazed, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.  
  
Any Gerudo knows that a Chosen horse will never approach anyone other than her Chosen rider. The way this foal and girl behaved together, and the way she acted around this stranger, was identical. There WAS a connection between this girl and horse! I knew it! The connection DID exist! It was possible! The possibilities flooded my head, of telepathy among Gerudo, a whole team of Horsed Gerudo, minds linked with their horses AND each other!  
  
Just as I was silently rejoicing in my discovery, that clear, almost silvery melody came wafting over the breeze. I turned my eyes to the children. The boy and girl stood across from each other, the girl's voice like a silver bell… and the boy's Ocarina, a jewel in and of itself, following right along with the same silvery notes. Clear as a bell I heard it, as I'd heard it from her voice so many times before…  
  
… but what was this…  
  
Namir trembled, feeding off my thoughts as if she could see through my eyes. She whickered an odd warning to me, something between "Danger" and "Amazing". (Another reason why I say it's a bit different from Hylian telepathy. Horses tend to think "we" as opposed to "I" or "You". They ARE herd animals. And they always think in feelings or ideas.) Taking her warning to heart, but still as curious as a cat, I looked on…  
  
And the filly, bright rust-red, trotted to the little boy as though they had always known each other.  
  
I was dumbstruck. The foal could connect with the BOTH of them? Impossible! But then again, the idea of telepathy among Gerudo, as a possibility, up until a few moments before had been "impossible".  
  
Namir flashed patterns of thought into my mind. Thoughts of the Choosing, the children standing at one end of the field, the horses at the other. Then she slowly changed them, until there were two children, and only one horse. The horse ran to them, and touched them both at the same time. Both children laid their hands on her bridle, and walked away.  
  
I was confused. Namir was telling me that this horse had chosen TWO connections.  
  
I watched more, hoping to understand…  
  
"Fairy Boy, Epona's grown fond of you!"  
  
I blinked. Epona! The legendary name given to the Unicorn? The ancient name of the oldest horse? Epona! The name of the Horse Goddess herself! My thoughts began to run wild, and Namir though simply "Reborn".  
  
One of our old legends reveres the name of Epona. She is the Goddess of Horses, a minor deity in most people's hearts, but the matron deity of the Horsed Gerudo. In some of our legends, she was the very first horse to walk the earth, taking the form of a Unicorn, and in some others, she gave birth to the Gerudo. It varies, depending on who you ask. But in every legend, her name is Epona.  
  
One of the legends states that Epona will always come to save the world when it is threatened by all-consuming evil. Most of the time, she never actually saves it herself, but helps her chosen champion to do so. In legend, she believes in helping those who need or deserve it, rather than interfere with the lives of most ordinary people. There are those who said she aided the King of Hyrule in the Great War at the beginning of civilization. Some will contest that, saying she would never help a Hylian, but why would Epona be discriminate?  
  
Epona… perhaps it was a coincidence? Namir's mind immediately denied that. To her, this was definitely the Goddess of Horses herself. And how could I prove her wrong? The Horse Goddess had a right to be reborn as she saw fit, into a mortal body, as a foal, to a Hylian rancher if she chose to. She had brought peace to the first war, surely…  
  
It was then that I realized that the war was NOT over. Although Hyrule had been living in peace, I had heard rumors that our dear King Ganondorf (may he rot in hell), who we all solemnly pledged allegiance to, had a plan to de-throne the Hylians. Even my own instructor had told me how he planned to bring the Hylians to "justice" and bring power to our own people. My instructor would not have lied to me, planting such doubts in my mind, if it weren't true. Stealing from women, children… killing people! "Never to slay unless our lives are threatened", and yet he was ordering us against our creed? Ganondorf had seemingly pledged his allegiance to the King of Hyrule as of late… but that evil man? There was no way he would ever submit to anyone, not truly, anyway. And if he would not submit to the King of Hyrule, why would he pledge his allegiance to him? To get close to him?  
  
My mind reeled. Was Ganondorf (may he burn in torment forever) really stupid enough to attack Hyrule?… he was the King of Thieves, and infiltration and subterfuge are our favorite pastimes, but could he really hope to overtake all of Hyrule from the inside?… and was it possible that forces were already moving to counteract him?  
  
I glowered. I remember sitting there for a good hour or more, sorting it out. I finally came to a conclusion that the rumors were true. I myself disliked Ganondorf (may fleas infest his corpse…), since he seemed to just ooze evil intent from every pore. Although he was my King, I disliked his methods of thieving. I had always been taught that the Gerudo Thieves had honor, stole from men who were rich, and would not kill unless attacked first. My instructor had confirmed what I had heard: that he was a murderer who would steal from EVERYone, rich or poor, man, woman or child, regardless of status or race. Surely he would have the guts to stoop to war, if he disobeyed such ancient traditions already!  
  
And what of us, his noble vassals? Namir stamped her foot and thought several images of her ideas of war and destruction, with us at the forefront, bloodied and slaying all in our way like some ignoble cavalry. I thought back an agreement, and she snorted in disgust. I could never serve my "King", whether I pledged allegiance to him or not, if he sent us to war against a peaceful, albeit rich and prosperous, kingdom.  
  
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Sigh… yes, friend. That's when I thought to escape. If only I knew what it would cost me.  
  
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I went back to the compound, as normal as possible. I had made up my mind to flee to the lake and not return. I tried not to appear too distant or too upset, to avoid attention, so I simply feigned sleepiness, and went to stable to sleep. It was later in the evening when I returned anyway, so I wasn't too conspicuous. I couldn't sleep, however. My whole world was caving in on itself, and nothing was making sense. My mind was a vast turmoil, my heart confused. Namir nuzzled me with that velvet nose of hers, and whickered softly against my neck. I patted her neck gently and sighed. That night was the longest night of my life…  
  
Before dawn came, I had packed all my belongings (my bow and a quiverfull of arrows, my sword, and a blanket) and left the compound. For the next month and a half I stayed at the lake, surviving off fish and the occasional Guay that flew my way… but my… vacation, if you will, was cut rather short.  
  
Aye, that. The world came to an end for me that year… you see, there really isn't anywhere to hide from somebody like Ganondorf (may he rot in hell with every pox that ever existed), especially if someone's jealous enough to hold a grudge and betray you to him. Yes, I'm talking about Gaburo. She led the attack to track me down and kill me. I had let it slip occasionally to the rest of the group that I enjoyed the lakeside, and it was there she found me.  
  
I remember it like a nightmare. She and a dozen others, a few elder riders and several of my classmates, suddenly appeared, jumping over the barrier to Lake Hylia. I was caught at the bankside, near that crazy old doctor's house, enjoying the sunshine. Gaburo was the one who approached me first, her eyes cold and dark.  
  
"You know why I'm here, deserter?" she asked, her voice like broken glass.  
  
I shook my head no. At that point she notched an arrow to her bowstring.  
  
"You betrayed our King," she grated, "but that's not why I volunteered to kill you." I can recall her eyes, empty and soul-less, but dreadful, like the eyes of a demon, "I was supposed to have Namir, and you know it." Her voice kept dropping, like a cold wind, "All these years I've had a second- rate horse, when everyone knows I, I! Was supposed to have that beautiful mare ten years ago. Ten… long… years… Boonaru," she giggled hysterically, "I've worked my horse to the bone to be as good as you, but I, the grand- daughter of a Matriarch of Gerudo! I got a second-rate horse. If you only knew how I've wept, Boonaru… if you only knew… you, always in favor, you, always the best… you, with the horse from the Hyrulian Stable line..." her voice trembled with hate, and her horse twitched.  
  
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I'll never know whether the horse she rode, a haggard and troubled bay, betrayed Gaburo on purpose. Out of sympathy, perhaps, for what she knew her rider was planning, or possibly an accidental move made in fear…  
  
Nevertheless, that horse saved my life.  
  
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I mounted Namir in a flash, the arrow cutting into the grass where I had been standing only a heartbeat before. Just as quickly, we sped toward the entrance. Her fleet feet, the fastest of any Gerudo steeds, nimbly cut through the weeds and tall grass, her fame and pride put to the ultimate test. Arrows hailed down on us, and war cries echoed behind as Namir and I fled for our lives.  
  
As we leapt the second barrier, my mind raced: where could we flee to? Kokiri forest was an idea, but the Kokiri would never let us stay because of who I was associated with by race, and the Lost Woods would swallow us whole. The Gorons may have been an option, and the Kakariko folk may have been friendly enough if I could just explain…  
  
It would have to do. Kakariko was always a place of refuge against the evils of the world, from the Great War to the Rule of Ganondorf (may he rot in hell). Even those who are normally outcast find SOME solace there, even if it's lurking in the shadows of the graveyard or the nighttime hours. So it was my best option at that point, to seek shelter in the only place that had any source of hope for even one so hunted as I.  
  
And at that point, I was more hunted than ever.  
  
The Gerudo who had blindly followed Gaburo after me, whooping like crazed zealots and raining arrows and curses, attacked me as I fled on Namir…  
  
One arrow, although I was a ways off… I dodged, but… a horse is a large target…  
  
…  
  
No, I'm all right. She managed to get me to Kakariko by nightfall before she collapsed. My thoughts were blinded by her pain and I didn't know what to do. I only know I had to stay with her. But she kept telling me to go, her mind a red and violet blur of anguish and horror, screaming at me to run to Death Mountain and escape… it wasn't until she bared her teeth at me and didn't let me near that I finally fled…  
  
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… what CHOICE did I have? I HAD to run! The Gerudo band was pressing me sharply, hot on my heels, and my only love lay bleeding on the Hylian soil… her screams shattering the air with that agonized, piercing shriek of a mortally wounded equine… I could hear her even as I scrambled up the steps to Kakariko… and kept running… through it… up the mountainside… I could still hear her…  
  
Pray that you never hear the dying screams of a horse, friend. Pray every night that you never, ever hear that unearthly sound…  
  
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I ran as fast as I could. I didn't have a choice. My heart thundered in my ears, and my lungs burned in my throat. I'd left behind everything… my bow, my quiver, all the arrows I ever made, my sword, my blanket… and my horse… all I had was my little knife that we're given on our first year. That was all, excluding the clothes on my back. I had no money, no supplies, and no wits. Godesses know what happened to her after they found her… perhaps they let her die, perhaps they gave her a quick death… I would never know.  
  
Oh sure, I still had my ingrained training, but none of it mattered anymore. My brain had shut down. My heart had stopped. My breath had left me. The world had ended for me that day, that instant, that her blood was split. I lost my mind somewhere along the way between Kakariko and the summit of Death Mountain. It got blurry…. And then I lose it from there.  
  
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No, don't ask. I don't really even recall what I did for those eternal seven years. I do know I lived on Death Mountain somewhere, living off grass and insects and the occasional small animal. I was an animal, then. My heart was dead, my soul was dead, my life was over. I had lost the only thing that had ever meant anything to me. The death of Namir struck me hard, and I wasn't really able to collect my thoughts until sometime later.  
  
I know this from tales of a wild ghost on Death Mountain, with hair like flames and skin like sunwashed earth. Most of the tales are gone, but I hear that ghosts are a favorite source of tales in Kakariko. Most Gerudo who lose their horse are nursed back to sanity (or some resemblance of sanity) by the rest of the clan, but I… I was alone. So very, very alone.  
  
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I finally decided to venture down the mountain one night. I passed unnoticed through Kakariko, and floundered across Hyrule Field. Ganondorf, as you know, had destroyed most of the wholesome things left in the world, but by that time I really didn't care. I was only half without my Namir. A horseless rider is like a peel with no orange. All I could think about was her silver whinny, her shining hooves, her gleaming ebony eyes like pools of forever night… and at times I would swear I felt her velvet nose on my shoulder, her soft, shimmering black hide where there was nothing, even the silk of her mane entwined in my fingers.  
  
I recall often wondering where she went, why she didn't answer my thoughts, or why she wouldn't come when I called out to her. I would embrace trees, thinking it was her sturdy neck, and ask her to come to the lake with me. I remember, vaguely, talking to her, out loud and passionately, even in the midst of onlookers. I only hope they forgot about this raving lunatic. I'm sure that there were others who suffered fates similar to mine, of The Hylian race. Death does that to a person. No matter WHO they are.  
  
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… another drink, friend? It takes my mind off those times.  
  
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After goddess-knows-how-long, I decided to go back to the only place I could remember her well, so I returned to the Gerudo Fortress. Dangerous, I know, but by then I didn't care. I had to wait for nightfall to get in, since I knew they probably still viewed me as a traitor. I crept back to her old stableroom and fell in a heap onto the hay. The thick smell of horse and hay was still strong, a warm, comforting, familiar scent that lulled me into my now-too-common world of memories and illusion, and I was soon asleep. The dreams, senseless and meaningless, finally took hold. They were always empty now. Namir and I would always dream together… and without her, the hole in my life knew no end. Not even sleep was a respite.  
  
I was awakened by soft footsteps on the flagstones outside. My soul may have been dead, but my instincts were still very much awake, and intruders were to be dealt with. I followed the footsteps through the winding corridors, and found myself staring at the back of a young lad in green. My mind ached as I tried to recall where I'd seen those clothes before, but I didn't have much of a chance. He was in a prison cell room, and talking to a prisoner. It wasn't too long before the warrior guard posted for that cell appeared out of nowhere to fight him. He was skillful with a sword, as made evident by the short work he made of the girl. He seized the key and freed the prisoner with no time to spare, all the while being followed by a fairy…  
  
Fairy? Green tunic? I blinked. Could it possibly have been the same boy…?  
  
Before I knew it, another Gerudo had emerged and was talking with him. I strained to focus my eyes, trying to force recognition into my mind. I couldn't, even though my mind rang with familiarity. She praised his skills and offered him a membership to the Thieve's Guild. I was shocked! The same boy? Could it have been? And now he was an Honorary Gerudo?! I decided to follow him, simply to sate my curiosity. I couldn't seem to understand exactly who this young man was!  
  
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Aye, friend. I followed him all the way to the Temple of the Sand. Across the Sinking River, across the Wasteland, through the sandstorms, and into the hazardous Temple Grounds. No, I can't tell you how I got there! I may not be a real Gerudo anymore, but some secrets stay with me to the grave!  
  
Ahem. Where was I… Ah, yes.  
  
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I knew the Spirit Temple fairly well, as any Gerudo should. I followed him closely but tried not to interfere if I could avoid it. But as he ventured farther and farther into the temple, I began to pick off certain things he'd missed. Before too long, I began killing things behind him if they looked like they had any intention of harming him. A fiery Keese here, a waiting Lizalfos there… but the entire time, my heart pounded in my brain. I could not be noticed by him. I could not. I had an incredible fear of him ever even suspecting my existence, and I did my best to stay out of his way. It appeared as though he never noticed my presence.  
  
Eventually he made his way to the main chamber, a place I could not follow. I no longer had the tools for it. The hostile creatures I had dispatched easily with a thrown knife or a slit throat, but without my old tools of the trade, I could not follow any further. It was forbidden at any rate, spiritually, as well as lawfully, and I was thus held back. Hoping he would be all right, I made my way outside. He was a very handsome young man, with a soft expression and fluid grace, and I didn't want to see him hurt.  
  
I sat on the steps of the temple to think. I had not found out who the mysterious lad was, I was now deep into hostile territory, and I had nothing to live for anymore. The only friend I ever had, who had been there for me since I could really remember, was gone. There was nothing left. Death was inevitable, since my entire race hated me. The Hylians hated me. The Evil King hated me. The Goddesses SURELY hated me. There was no point anymore. I was completely alone, a wanderer, with nowhere safe to hide anymore. I hesitate to say this, but right there on the front steps I broke down and cried.  
  
And THEN, dear friend, is when the Goddesses smiled on me.  
  
A strange young man I'd never seen before leapt down from the archway above me. He was dressed in odd, almost desert-wanderer clothes, wrapped in cloth from head to toe. He resembled the Shadow Folk I had heard old tales about, a respected race of protectors. But as they were allies of the Hylians, they would hate me for my heritage as well, clearly. I was startled, and drew my knife, just in case he meant me any malice. But he stopped and asked me simply,  
  
"Why did you help him?"  
  
My first reaction was hate. If the world hated me, I could hate it back, not that it would do any good. But the very aura of the young man before me exuded patience and tranquility. I admitted after a short while that I didn't know. I only wanted to find out who he was. I had lost the only thing I'd ever loved seven years ago, and before then I thought I might have seen him. I only wanted to know for sure…  
  
The young man stopped me in mid sentence.  
  
"For your help, I will grant what you wish. The young man inside that temple, fighting the evil witches that reside within even as we speak, is the Hero of Time. He wields the mighty blade known as the Master Sword, and is destined to crush Ganondorf and free Hyrule."  
  
I was dumbstruck. I had been helping a hero… no, not just A hero, THE Hero… and hadn't even known it? THE Hero, destined to crush Ganondorf (may the vile beast suffer for eternity), and free Hyrule?  
  
"What was it you lost, those seven years ago?"  
  
I wasn't sure I wanted to completely open up about that, but I figured I had nothing to lose. "My horse," I replied, my voice catching in my throat as the words left my mouth, "I lost my horse, Namir… she…Ganondorf's followers killed her." I dropped my gaze slightly.  
  
"She… she was my… only friend… my soul-mate… my partner… my… everything… Namir…"  
  
The young man stared at me for a little while, and then flattened me completely with two words:  
  
"You're wrong."  
  
At first I was furious. I thought he was insinuating that I hadn't loved Namir with all my heart. I sprang forward, the knife in my hand singing through the air to press against the throat of my tormentor. There was no way I was going to let someone sully my angel's memory. I was trained for this, and there was nothing to stop me from killing. And I was VERY ready to kill. Two more words, however, and it didn't matter:  
  
"She's alive."  
  
I was stock still for a long moment. The young man stared me down, eyes telling the complete truth, and his voice completely calm. The knife dipped, wavered, and slowly fell. I began to shake, and the knife fell from my numb fingers, clattering to the sandstones beneath my feet. Namir… alive? It couldn't be, she was dying when I left her…!  
  
The young man came slowly forward and pulled out a harp. He played a soft, gentle melody on his harp, and we were soon enveloped by a soft bluish light. I felt incredibly light, almost featherweight, and felt my feet lift from the ground. I remember thinking I was dead, that I would soon see Namir in the Great Field Beyond. I closed my eyes and relaxed. "I'm coming home, Namir…" I said to myself…  
  
When I awoke, I was beneath the tree at Lake Hylia.  
  
I rubbed my eyes. Surely this was a dream… Yes, it had to have been a dream, for there was Namir not to far away, munching on some long grass. At least, that's what I was thinking, until she trotted over and licked my face from chin to forehead. And trust me, that's as efficient as pinching yourself if you want to check and see if you're awake. Her eyes shone with joy, and my heart sang, our minds clicking again like a second Choosing. Never again would I leave her side, and her gentle whuffling told me that she would never again tell me to do so.  
  
I embraced her satin neck, and mounted her tenuously like a child, and with a whinny of complete and utter exultation, she raced across the bridge, splashing through the water at the shore, and out into the great field. The sky was blue again, and the grass, although having been dead so long, was turning green. Soon they would burst forth in their myriad of colors. The birds sang once again, after so long a silence. The waters were clear, and the clouds were white and pure. Nothing would ever go wrong again. We were together. We were home.  
  
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It took a few more months, even a few years, for things to actually start returning to normal. Namir and I watched it all through much wiser eyes, forsaking most of our old ways and turning to the more peaceful ways of the hidden wanderer. We stayed out of sight as the world turned green with life, new and wonderful. Homes were rebuilt, racial gaps were getting crossed again, and lives continued on. Freedom was returned. The castle was restored. And the Princess, who the Evil King had sought to destroy, became Queen.  
  
For years I wandered since, staying well away from my old desert abode. It was no longer my home, no longer the place I knew. The rule of the Evil King had changed it from my old childhood hearth to a rotten dwelling of vermin. Vermin like Gaburo, his faithful.  
  
Or so I thought.  
  
Namir told me, finally, to return home just once, to see it. I did, without question, since we shared one mind and I could not contest her. It was, after all, her birthplace. When I got there, I expected the worst, and was actually somewhat surprised.  
  
All right, I was VERY surprised. Astounded, even.  
  
Nabooru, the young lady who would have been Matriarch had Ganondorf not seized control and usurped her power, was now in her rightful place as leader of our people. The Fortress was in good condition, much like it's former state, no longer mobilized for war. The horses were lean and cunning, the trainees were well-taught and every weapon honed to a keen edge, but none of them were violent, vicious, or cold-hearted. They were again the Daughters of the Wind, the desert flowers that could stand alone without the world. And I distinctly heard the old creed, like a forgotten memory, wafting over the fresh morning breeze.  
  
It was home again.  
  
I entered without fear, Namir's head held high and proud. We were the forgotten ones, old guests, a testament of the old ways. The guards at the entrance, young girls just coming of age, were astounded and very confused.  
  
"H-Halt!" one stammered. "State your name and business!"  
  
I shifted my worn out cloak, exposing my old armband with the four horseshoe-emblem, and leveled my gaze at her.  
  
The other girl, quite young and rather bold, rapped out orders to her baffled companion. "Go get the Elder, Mijiru. I will question our guest until you return." She turned to me as the first girl scurried off.  
  
"Who are you?" she said with a good deal of curiosity, "You're obviously Gerudo, but I have never seen you before. The horse you ride is fantastic, but I have never seen her before either. You bear the rank of the elite Horsed Gerudo, but I have no recollection of you ever pacing the field. So, may I ask, who are you really?"  
  
I drew myself up straight in the saddle, my stare locking with hers. She was very young, possibly a few years behind her companion. Her eyes were bright and alert, her hair long and golden. She reminded me of me in my youth, her impetuousness, boldness, and curiosity. I smiled.  
  
Her friend came trotting back, an older woman behind her. The corners of her eyes were a bit more wrinkled, and her gait was a bit stiffer, but I knew exactly who it was.  
  
She seemed to know me also, since she stopped and stared so openly with surprise.  
  
"Boonaru?!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Junuro," I said quietly, "it's been a while, hasn't it?"  
  
  
  
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Well of COURSE she was alive. You don't think we lost very many lives invading the Hylians, do you? They practically gave the place to us, running like rabbits. And the Evil King had the Triforce, after all, didn't he?…  
  
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I dismounted Namir, who tossed her head happily, and embraced. We may not have been very close, but we were classmates, after all. She looked me over, and greeted Namir. Finally, after the introductions were over, her face solemned.  
  
"Boonaru, you do realize you're an outlaw?"  
  
I nodded. I had suspected as much, but I was older now, and had no fear any more. "Even so, Junuro, I had to see this place again. Nabooru is in charge, I gather?"  
  
She nodded. "She… has changed. She disappeared for a long while after the invasion, and just after the King was defeated, she returned with powers unlike any other I've seen." Her voice dropped. "Some say she found power from the Goddesses, but she won't give any of us a straight answer. She does credit the boy in green, Link, however."  
  
Link. So that was his name.  
  
I sighed and smiled again. "It's over, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes," she responded, eyeing me closely, "but I still don't know how you've managed to survive. The party sent to kill you for desertion said they slew Namir."  
  
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So, of course, I told her my story. Just as I told you, minus the Hero. I told her I went into the Temple for spiritual help.  
  
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"Funny you should mention that," she told me, "Since Gaburo went missing shortly after Namir was shot. She led a raid on Kakariko, then came tearing back during the King's victory speech. She never was quite the same after that. She had this weird way of wandering around the Fortress with some wild look in her eyes. Then one day she was gone. She returned several days later, her horse missing, completely mentally destroyed, a raving lunatic. We locked her up for her safety, and ours, just in case she came out of it. She spouted things, sometimes, about you, and Namir, and various ways she'd tried to ruin you." Her eyes grew sad. "She sometimes even would say things that were true, happening on the other side of Hyrule. 'A Sage has been awakened,' or 'Ganondorf has been defeated,'. Said you were still alive, but none of us thought she was telling the truth."  
  
"I wouldn't call it living," I said.  
  
She smiled at that. "We felt it was just punishment. If you lived without Namir, your mind was surely broken as hers was. It paid for the crime you did to us. But it never should have happened this way."  
  
I nodded. I wasn't about to tell her about the Hero.  
  
"By law, she never should've hurt Namir. It worked out to our benefit, but you know, as she knew and I know, Namir should never been harmed in the pursuit. We feel she's also received fair punishment." She smiled mysteriously, "In truth, I'd like to know how it is she still lives, but I suppose if you could survive this whole time… and Namir, sweetie," she muttered softly, "how on earth did YOU survive…"  
  
"Tougher than Gaburo thought, I guess…" I said.  
  
She nodded. "She's paying for it in the prison cell now. But if you wish to see her, you may. Just once… since you're not really one of us anymore."  
  
"I know," I answered, "I don't ask to return, only to come and go as I please."  
  
She smiled warmly, her eyes crinkled into a glimmering laugh. "I think we can allow that. Nabooru expressly gave orders to forgive those who went against Ganondorf."  
  
"I can live with that."  
  
The cell that held Gaburo was an ordinary one, bare and empty, aside from water and food and bedding. She huddled in a corner, her clothes messy and dirty, her hair a ball of orange fuzz. She rocked back and forth, staring at the ground, muttering softly. Pity began to form in my heart, but Namir's thoughts wafted to me on some unknown current (of a passing butterfly, actually), and I hated her again. Not the cold rage she'd ever felt for me, but only pained, regretful anger.  
  
I stood at the bars, the cold metal a breath away. "… Gaburo."  
  
She stopped suddenly, looked up, her eyes in complete shock. The icy fire of hatred she once had was gone. Only the emptiness remained. An stare of absence. Mad. An animal. Like I had been.  
  
"… rot in hell, bitch. May you never know the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the river, or the sweet touch of an equine ever again."  
  
Her expression twisted, a mixture of horror and helplessness. She wailed, a wrenching sound of anguish and defeat. Namir would forever be mine, and she knew it. She had lost.  
  
Without another word, I walked out, mounted Namir, and rode out of the compound, to return only when I desired, without fear.  
  
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…and the rest, is history. 


End file.
